


Erase Me

by concupiscence66



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard truly believes he is a thirty-two-year-old virgin, a jazz poet and a musical virtuoso.  While his memory is a bit hazy, Howard Moon is a man who knows who he is and who his friends are.</p><p>Vince, however, knows that Howard is wrong about everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my salute to my favorite kink, first times.
> 
> Warnings: angst, explicit sex, infidelity, threesome, underage sexual behavior (but no underage sex)
> 
> Huge thanks to castie67 at livejournal for her patience as a beta! Any mistakes are all on me! Much love to bluestocking79 who has been my sounding wall on every silly thought that enters my head, and who encouraged this insanity.

The flat had been thoroughly dusted and straightened, and it wasn't even supper time. It was going to be a long night in for Howard. The Nabootique was closed because of the important Shaman holiday of "Hangover Tuesday" that was celebrated by Naboo after every bank holiday weekend. Naboo firmly believe Recovery Monday was for quitters. The tiny Shaman didn't have many strong convictions, so Howard was hesitant to point out the few he had were utter bollocks. Howard Moon was a rugged man of action, but he was also a sensitive man. He didn't trample on the dreams or beliefs of others, no matter how stupid and pointless.

Vince was out on the town, trying to be the Prince of Camden, whatever the hell that meant. He was going out more and more and staying out later and later. If Howard was the type to worry, he'd be concerned that Vince was taking too many risks and heading down a bad path. Beyond the mental atrophy that must accompany spending every night listening to twelve minute remixes of songs that were unbearable to begin with, there were the designer drugs and designer clothes meant only to destroy the mind and empty the wallet. The perpetually naive Vince Noir had no place among those empty-headed club kids. He should be spending his time with Howard, bettering and expanding his mind with thoughtful conversation and educational programming. 

He'd tried to tell Vince as much when he was heading out the door, but the insolent brat had batted his lashes at Howard and said he wasn't interested in talking. It was those strangely suggestive comments that were tearing them apart. Every time Howard thought Vince had outgrown his capriciousness, he would turn again. There had been nearly a year at the zoo when Vince barely acknowledged him. Years of friendship and yet Vince treated him like a ghost, scorning every friendly overture. When Howard suggested Vince was out of line, he became furious and said very unpleasant things about Howard's haircut. When Vince finally got out of his snit, he suddenly reverted to the sweet boy he'd always been before. He followed Howard around for years, gazing up at him with hero worship and love. Then they were fired from the zoo. That night, Vince dyed his hair black and became a stranger again. So it went, off and on, with Howard never knowing who he would meet in the morning. Would it be sweet, loving Vince or his bratty, hostile doppelganger? 

Howard was lost in his thoughts of Vince, when the man himself appeared. He was home early, his face and hair looking despondent.

"Hey, there! What's wrong, Little Man?" Howard asked, not quite touching Vince's shoulders. He just sort of waved his hands in their direction. Sometimes Vince liked to be touched, sometimes it made him angry. 

Vince's blue eyes were watery, and he sniffed as soon as Howard started speaking. Vince was usually either happy or angry. There didn't seem to be a lot of other emotions banging around in Vince's heart. Vince was rarely sad, and even those occasional bouts of sadness were usually clothing related. 

Vince buried his face in Howard's chest and sobbed. Howard stroked Vince's floppy hair. He couldn't do much damage to the sorry barnet. Vince didn't bother protesting, a sure sign he was in serious distress. Howard encouraged his Little Man to talk. Vince mumbled into Howard's chest, impossible to understand. 

Howard's memories of his youth were fuzzy, but he vividly remembered the first time he saw Vince. Vince had been smiling like he was channeling sunshine as the wind whipped blond hair around his face. Growing up, Howard had sought Vince out more than the actual sun (which gave him freckles).

"Don't be so upset, nothing's that bad," Howard cooed, rocking Vince gently, "I'll make you a nice cup of tea."

Howard would never know if his friend wanted tea, because Vince chose that minute to kiss him. The kiss on the rooftop had thrown Howard for a loop. Although he knew Vince was trying to literally save his own neck, it had been easy to get swept up in that kiss.

He was getting swept up again. Howard had always been a little afraid of kissing. The physical intimacy, the saliva, the concerns about oral hygiene and nose placement...

But it was so easy with Vince. It felt natural, and not at all disgusting. Vince's mouth tasted of alcopops, but even that worked on Vince. Howard wrapped his hands around Vince's slim waist. The Confuser, indeed. His slim frame, makeup, high heels, the girlie drinks on his breath; it was all in conflict with the hint of stubble and the distinctly masculine bulge in his trousers. Vince liked to say he was man and woman together, but not quite as good as either of those two things. It wasn't true. Vince was something better.

Vince pulled back and looked Howard in the eye.

"All right, Howard?"

Howard nodded mutely and moved in for more kissing before something terrible happened to ruin the moment. His ears were perked for monsters, evil-doers and flat mates. 

Vince guided them towards the sofa. It had been a perfectly nice, brown sofa at the charity shop, but Vince had worked his magic until it became an over-stuffed, two-toned monstrosity. Howard had to admit, it was an improvement. Although he still occasionally got vertigo while sitting on it, it was awfully comfy.

Every time Howard and Vince sat on the couch, they ended up pressed against one another. The couch seemed to demand intimacy. 

Howard stumbled a bit and landed on top of Vince with a thud.

"Sorry about that, I think I sprained something at jazzercise..."

"No talking," Vince ordered, "Just kissing. Talking is where things go wrong."

The man had a point. Howard allowed himself to be pulled on top of Vince, who looked in danger of being swallowed whole by the couch. Howard was wondering if he should switch places with Vince when he felt bony hands squeezing his arse. 

"I'm thinking of giving the G.I. diet a try," Howard explained, "I live a life of moderation but the Moon men..."

"I love your pumpkin arse, Howard. Don't you dare lose it."

There was no denying the sincerity in Vince's eyes, or in his eager fondling of Howard's rear. Howard worried about crushing Vince and tried to move to the side, but Vince was insistent.

"I want you on top of me, Howard," Vince whispered. "Just like... just like this."

Howard tried to relax and just enjoy the feel of Vince's mouth under his, the way he felt so small but strong in Howard's hands. He felt a stab of panic when Vince undid Howard's trousers, but the feel of Vince's hand on his erection was more than just erotic. It felt right. Instead of fumbling, Howard was able to undo Vince's trousers with ease. His hand seemed to know exactly what to do, even as his brain panicked. He wrapped his hand around Vince's hard cock and was rewarded with a whimper. Howard had always thought that was how it would be with the right person, that everything would be easy and natural, but there was also a part of him that thought such romantic ideas were hogwash. Nothing went smoothly for Howard Moon, and yet he had Vince panting and groaning with every touch. Howard felt a strange sensation; he felt sure of himself. A little wriggling and he and Vince's cocks were lined up so that Howard could work them together. Vince's fingers dug into Howard's shoulders as he bucked into Howard's touch.

"Howard, oh Howard. Love you so... Howard."

Howard squeezed just enough to keep himself from coming, but it sent Vince over the edge. Vince's eyes were shut tight, but there were tears on his cheeks.

"Everything okay, Little Man?" Howard asked, wondering if he should stop.

"Everything is genius," Vince whimpered, opening his eyes, "I just really needed this tonight."

Howard stroked Vince's dark hair, "Something you need to talk about?"

He was aware it was a strange thing to say while rubbing his hard cock on Vince's stomach, but he really didn't want to continue if Vince was in a bad place.

Vince smiled, "I really need to see you get off. That would make me so happy, just to see you come and look like... Just happy and relaxed."

Howard suddenly felt self-conscious, but Vince wrapped his hand over Howard's and encouraged him to begin stroking. Howard closed his eyes and tried not to think about Vince staring at him as he essentially jerked off on Vince's stomach. 

"You look so good, Howard."

That was it for Howard. He let out a strangled groan and came on Vince's belly and rucked-up shirt.

"Sorry about the shirt," he whispered.

"S'all right. Not like I can wear the same thing twice, anyway," Vince shrugged as they disentangled themselves.

"Not when you're up for re-election. The Mayor of Camden has to be an example to the community."

"I'm a Prince," Vince corrected him, "The general public ain't got nothing to do with it. I was born to rule Camden!"

It felt good to be sitting on the couch, their legs pressed together and bantering. When Howard allowed himself fantasies about Vince, he often worried they would lose the spark between them if they acted on their chemistry. Vince was looking disheveled and pink-cheeked, but otherwise unchanged. Howard vowed he would not say something to make the moment awkward.

"What just happened here?" spoke his traitorous mouth before his brain could interfere. He hadn't even finished doing his trousers up and he was already making a mess of things.

Vince carefully avoided Howard's eyes, suddenly fascinated with the fabric of the couch.

"I dunno. Thought it would be nice... Was it nice? I mean..." Vince looked a bit lost and Howard had no idea how to comfort him, "It was nice, right? A good first time, on the couch and all?"

Howard felt a bit queasy, wondering if he'd just received a bit of pity fondling, "It was very nice, Vince. Thank you. Thanks for, well, all of that, really. You're a good mate."

Howard could feel Vince's eyes boring into the side of his face like lasers. He couldn't quite look him in the eye, so he patted his shoulder in an effort to at least make a connection.

"Doyouwanttogoupstairs?"

It took Howard a moment to translate.

"Upstairs? Of course, you'll want to get a stain treatment on that shirt..."

"No, Howard. Do. You. Want. To. Go. Upstairs? For real?" Vince seemed to think he was making sense, but Howard was lost.

"We can go upstairs and... C'mon, Howard. Don't make me say it."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to, Little Man... Oh."

Vince nodded, "That's right, Howard. I want to Oh."


	2. Two Steps Forward

Vince felt dizzy, but determined as he all but dragged Howard towards their room. The Northerner was hemming and hawing, but he wasn't saying no. When Howard didn't want to do something, he didn't hedge, he dug in his heels and became a stone wall.

"S'okay, Howard, I'll take care of everything, all right?"

Howard didn't look reassured. In fact, he looked so worried Vince couldn't help but stop and give him a kiss. Howard's little eyes were darting back and forth as Vince leaned in, but he was adorably eager and sloppy in his kiss. Vince knew if he continued the kiss a little longer, Howard would relax, but Vince was enjoying his awkwardness. He pulled back, leaving his hands on Howard's chest. Howard tried to smooth back his fine hair, but it just kept flopping back into his face. Vince was so full of love for his strange friend, he felt like a child dizzy on lemonade.

Once in their room, Howard nearly fell over trying to get undressed. Vince watched him fumble, enjoying the sexual slapstick, before stepping in.

"Just lie down, Howard. I'll take care of everything," he whispered, knowing Howard would never want anyone to overhear. Howard had an image of himself as a sophisticated man of the world, and Vince hated to tamper with that image. Howard was being held together by threads, and Vince didn't want to pull too hard and see him unravel. The love would always outweigh the anger and resentment.

Howard tried to be helpful, but mainly got in the way as Vince undressed him. Vince got an elbow and a knee to the nose, but he had Howard stripped and trying to subtly cover his genitals in a manner of minutes. Vince wanted to admire Howard in all his freckled, soft-tummied glory but the big man was already self-conscious. Howard would walk around, naked as a jay bird, complaining that Vince had shrunk his pants in the washer, but on the rare occasion that nothing was annoying him - he was actually quite shy. Vince chucked his own gear with uncharacteristic indifference so he could feel Howard's warm skin against his own as they snogged.

When they had moved into Naboo's, there had already been a king size bed on the floor of their room. It took up most of the room, and was far too large to fit through the door or window. It had been magicked in, and Naboo refused to magic it back out. He said it was time for Vince and Howard to learn how to sort things out on their own. Sometimes Vince thought Naboo was being clever and cunning by refusing to remove the bed. Other times he thought Naboo was just being a lazy bastard. Either way, Howard and Vince had been sharing a bed for two years. Two years of sleeping with their backs to one another, with separate blankets, until it just seemed normal.

For two years, they had been climbing into the same bed at night, and tonight - for the first time - Vince didn't feel like his heart was breaking. 

Vince took it slow, keeping some room between their bodies as he explored Howard's mouth. It was strange and familiar at the same time.

"I love you," he whispered.

Howard laughed.

"You dick!" Vince growled, pretending to punch Howard's shoulder, "Now is not the time to be mocking me."

"But I do love you, 'oward! I were just finking 'bout sumptin else," Howard squawked, in a truly appalling imitation of Vince.

"That ain't even wot I said!" Vince protested, amping up the South London a tad. "I was just nervous, 'cause I thought we were going to die."

"I was glad you laughed," Howard said, suddenly serious, "If you hadn't laughed, I think I would have cried."

"Oh, Howard..."

"And I still didn't have the nerve..." Howard was shaking his head and looking ready to give himself a Chinese burn.

"S'all right, Howard. Worked out, dinnit? We're here and..."

"Naked."

"We're naked, and you look amazin'..."

"You need to eat," Howard scolded, "Look at your ribs, I'm afraid of breaking you."

"Don't flatter yourself," Vince snorted, "I can take whatever you've got in that Northern wheelbarrow of yours."

Howard waggled his eyebrows before tossing Vince flat on his back. It reminded Vince of the old days, when Howard had been a brooding bully instead of a jazz poet. What Howard remembered as the first time he and Vince met, was actually the second time. The first time they met, Vince had been checking his hair in a shop window as Howard and some of his mates walked by. Out of nowhere, Howard had clamped his oversized hand around Vince's face and shoved him to the ground. He didn't even look back to see the damage. That had started Vince's fascination with Howard Moon. Vince was used to being bullied for being small and strange and looking like a girl. He was a bully connoisseur. Howard was the only one who didn't seem to get anything out of being cruel. It was more like the opposite of a nicety. He pushed Vince because it was the socially appropriate thing to do to a fourteen-year-old boy (who looked like a 10-year-old girl).

But it was the new and improved, sensitive man of the naughties that was kissing Vince's neck - finding every ticklish spot and scolding him for being squirmy. 

"It's that mustache of yours, it..." but there was no way to finish the sentence. It was a good thing Howard wasn't really paying attention. He had worked his way down to Vince's nipples. There was no reason to rush things, they'd both just gotten off, but Vince still wanted to move things along. He couldn't help but worry that something would interfere. There were so many complications in their lives. Their lives had been relatively normal before the zoo, and Vince wondered if things would go back to normal if they cut themselves off from Naboo and Bollo, but it was a moot point because that was never going to happen. Therefore, Vince had every reason to worry that an evil spirit might arrive at any moment and force them into a musical number. It had happened before.

Howard made sure to tickle each of Vince's ribs with his 'tache as he worked his way down. Vince had no idea how far down Howard was planning to go, and he decided to simply enjoy himself. It was impossible to tell Howard what to do, so there was no point in discussing it. Howard was as stubborn as a mule, unless you were a pretty girl. Then he was easier to mold than room-temperature butter.

Howard lingered at Vince's belly button. He smiled fondly as he ran his finger around Vince's navel.

"Oh, no," Vince teased, hearing the strain in his voice, "This is about to get well kinky."

Howard laughed and used his index finger to draw a line from Vince's navel to where it got a little confusing as to what was pubic hair and what was just regular belly hair. 

"This area, here. This has caused me a lot of sleepless nights," Howard admitted, looking a bit wolfish. "You have no idea..."

"I have some idea," Vince whispered, but Howard let the comment pass. He licked his finger, before returning to tracing the outside of Vince's belly button. Vince felt like a horny teenager, every touch seemed so full of erotic potential. When Howard dipped his finger inside, Vince shuddered and Howard smirked. He gave Vince's belly a kiss, flicking his tongue into his navel before crawling back up the bed so they were again lying side by side. Vince couldn't pretend he wasn't a little disappointed, but he also couldn't pretend to be surprised. Until Howard spoke.

"I don't know how... I mean, I know how. I'm a man of the world and I've read a few pamphlets, but... I'm not sure exactly who should do what at this point." 

Vince kissed Howard for being adorable and clueless and assured him he was in good hands. "You can just lie there. I'll do everything this time."

"There'll be a next time?" Howard asked in his strangled, 'I'm joking but not really, please don't embarrass me,' voice.

Vince jumped on top of Howard, straddling his waist, "I sure hope so."

Howard bit his lip, but his eyes were smiling, "Good. Just, you know, be gentle as they say."

Vince played up being dim, but he knew his wasn't the quickest mind in Dalston. It wasn't until he noticed the wary fish-eye Howard was giving the lubricant Vince produced from its hiding spot under a stack of Cheekbone magazines, that he started to put the pieces together. 

He considered it for a moment. He could slick Howard up and give him the best two minutes of being told, "Don't move!" he'd ever had. It was a tempting thought, but there were things Vince knew about Howard that Howard did not know about himself. One of those things was that Howard did not bottom.

Except maybe this Howard did. The relieved sigh from Howard the moment Vince started preparing his own arse told him he was right. Howard had been willing, but far from eager. He seemed much happier about Vince being on top, if he wasn't actually planning to be the "top". 

It was slow going. It had been over a year for Vince - longer since he'd used this position, and Howard wasn't exactly small. Howard's fingers were digging into Vince's hips, certainly leaving bruises, as he whispered, "Easy, Little Man. Easy."

It was more painful and arduous than he remembered, but the look of amazement on Howard's face made it more than worth the effort. He even loosened his death grip on Vince's hips and started to stroke his backside. Once Vince relaxed enough to start rolling his hips, those freakishly long fingers dug into his thighs like talons.

"Oh, I wish I paid more attention to sports," Howard joked, his voices raspy and strangled, "I could use some statistics to focus on."

"Think about... jazz," Vince moaned, as he started gaining speed. It was all coming back to him, how to relax, how to get just the right angle... It was like riding a bike, only much, much better, "That should cool your jets."

Howard moved his hands back to Vince's hips, "I'll think about Weather Report."

Vince laughed as Howard began thrusting up off the bed, but soon his eyes were crossing as Howard brushed his prostate again and again, and he knew he'd never make another joke about Jaco Pastrami again. Howard couldn't keep up the pace for long, soon he was holding Vince still and whistling "Birdland". 

"If this is some elaborate plan to make me like jazz," Vince panted, "It is totally working." 

Howard smiled as he ran his hands over Vince's chest. Vince tried to hold himself at a flattering angle. Howard was looking at him with that old, possessive look.

"This ringing any bells?" Vince asked, hopefully.

"Bells are ringing, fireworks are exploding. I think I just saw a train go through a tunnel..."

Vince forced a laugh, and bent down to give Howard a lingering kiss. He moved himself slowly up and down Howard's cock, enjoying every electrified nerve. When Howard was griping the sheets and moaning, Vince quickened his pace until he was riding him hard and fast.

"Fuck," Howard whimpered as he gripped Vince's arse with one hand. Vince was going to have a whole bevy of hard to explain bruises if Howard woke up with a case of amnesia, but it was worth it to watch Howard's whole body curl with his orgasm. Even his hair seemed to be standing on end.

Howard continued to shudder and swear, looking like he was receiving electro shock therapy. Vince gently rocked on his still throbbing cock, belatedly thinking a johnny might have been a good idea. He was a bit flattered it hadn't occurred to Howard, either.

Howard pried one eye open at a time.

"Little Man?"

"C'mon, Howard. Average Man, at least," Vince teased, not quite ready for whatever Howard had to say.

"Surprisingly well-endowed for someone who bunches his family jewels into spandex Man?"

"Yes?"

Howard ran his hand over Vince's stomach, again circling his belly-button, before taking Vince's erection in his hand, "That was indescribable."

"Even to a jazz poet?"

Howard fought a smile, "I might be able to scat about it..."

"That is one kink, I ain't into Howard!" Vince laughed, even as he rocked himself into Howard's hand. Howard was still hard, but there was a tension around his eyes when Vince moved that told him he was feeling painfully sensitive. Vince didn't stop. He pressed his lips to Howard's and thrust into his hand until he came.

xxx

Howard winced as Vince pulled their bodies apart. He felt raw and sore, and not just physically. Vince was smiling and joking, but he kept averting his eyes and hiding behind his hair. Vince could be so fearless, but he was surprisingly sensitive. It was hard to know what would upset him.

"Thank you, Vince," Howard said, stroking Vince's thin arm. He was always surprised by the dark hair there. Vince's body hair hadn't gotten the memo that he was bringing androgyny to the kids. "That was amazing."

Vince hid behind his hands, like a child, as he mumbled a response.

Howard tried to think of something to say that was worthy of the moment. He couldn't think of any relevant poetry. All the poetry about bumming tended to be too steeped in metaphor to be useful.

"I'm honored that you trusted me with something so special, and I hope I didn't let you down."

Vince's face tensed, and he turned his face towards the wall. Howard knew he needed to tread carefully, but it was important that Vince understand.

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing," Howard explained.

Vince gave a derisive snort. Something had clearly gone wrong, already.

"What just happened here was very special," Howard continued, beginning to feel nervous, "And I want it to be the start of something..."

"What about what just happened makes you think I haven't been fucked before?" Vince asked with a sneer. Howard was too shocked to respond. It had occurred to him that Vince might have been with a man, but he'd always seemed so innocent. 

"I don't mind if you've -you've been with...well, other men..." Howard stammered, "I'm just trying to say..."

"I'm not a fucking thirty-year-old virgin, am I?" Vince snapped, "I've been bumming since I was sixteen."

Howard shrank a bit from the taunt. Vince had to be angry if he was using his real age. Howard wasn't exactly sure what had gone so wrong in his own life, but Vince never exactly seemed lucky in love, either. 

"Did someone take advantage of you?" he asked, feeling sick at the idea, "Because that doesn't make you... this... any less special."

Vince screamed and covered his ears, before storming to the bathroom. Howard wrapped himself in a sheet and stood knocking at the door and trying to call to him over the noise of the shower, until Naboo and Bollo came home.

Naboo looked Howard up and down, "Logical conclusion, eh? That is well disgusting."


	3. One Giant Leap Back

It was a half hour before Vince finally opened the door. His hands were pruney and his hair was soaking wet, and clinging to his makeup free face. 

"Vince?" Howard asked hesitantly. He found himself with an armful of wet and crying pseudo-goth. He couldn't hear exactly what Vince was saying, but there was an apology in there, somewhere. He tried to get Vince to tell him what was wrong, but the Little Man had no interest in words. He all but dragged Howard back to their shared bed.

"I want you, again," Vince whispered. "Make love to me, again."

"Aren't you sore?" Howard asked, trying to utilize what little blood was left in his brain.

"Not sore enough," Vince murmured. "I want to feel you, even when you're not there."

"That is... filthy. I should wash your mouth out with soap."

Vince looked up at Howard through his lashes, "Is that really what you want to put in my mouth?"

Howard gave Vince a pinch, but set about preparing him for another go. He ignored Vince's urgings to hurry up, unwilling to cause him any more discomfort than was   
absolutely necessary. He wasn't fooled by Vince's dirty talk; Vince needed a day's bed rest to recover from a Cheekbone inflicted paper cut.

Vince helped guide Howard to his entrance, and then wrapped his legs around Howard's waist. He flinched a bit when Howard tried to hold his hip. Howard could see the beginnings of a bruise.

"I'm sorry..."

"I'm not," Vince insisted, using his footballer legs to pull Howard closer, "You feel so good."

Howard did his best. He tried to be gentle and romantic, even as Vince told him to go harder and deeper. 

"I've done this a million times, you don't need to be so careful," Vince whispered. There was a touch of sadness in his voice.

"Well, it wasn't with me," Howard responded sternly, "It will always be special to me."

Vince snorted, and then he started to cry. Howard tried to pull away, but Vince held tight.

"I need you, Howard. Don't stop," he sniffled.

This time, he was able to get Vince off first, and Howard felt very proud of his development in the course of an evening. It was obvious that Howard and Vince were meant for one another. Everything felt natural and easy. It felt familiar and right. The second time Vince headed to the bathroom, it was with a sheepish smile and a promise to "not go mental". 

Howard tried to wrap his mind around what had happened in the course of a few hours. The part of his brain that he hated couldn't help but worry that whatever had made Vince sad enough to come home early from the clubs had led to this new development in their relationship. Vince had sounded so bitter when talking about his past experiences. Maybe someone had hurt him, or been unkind. Howard was getting ready to work himself into a panic, when he noticed the picture Vince kept by his bed. Howard wasn't sure why he owned a framed glossy of himself, but he'd thought it would make Vince laugh when he gave it to him as a gift the time they thought the zoo was about to close. When they moved into Naboo's, Howard was surprised and a little flattered to find Vince had kept the photo. He was then annoyed when Vince insisted on keeping it by his bedside. Vince would occasionally light candles around it, or put little trinkets in front of it - pretending it was a shrine. It was Howard's effort to take it away that began their first satsuma fight.

Howard rolled over to Vince's side of the bed, and picked up the framed photo. It was overly posed, like it had been for a joke, but Howard didn't remember having it taken. When he tried to place it back on Vince's night table, he accidentally sat it on an 'offering' of a miniature saxophone. The picture tipped over and fell to the ground, the glass smashing on impact.

Howard couldn't help but see that as a bad omen.

He threw on pajamas and got out a dust pan and broom. As he cleaned up the shards, he noticed there was another picture behind his. He picked up the second picture. It was a photo of Howard and Mrs. Gideon, kissing.

Howard's memory wasn't great, but he was pretty sure he'd remember if he and Gideon had kissed. She hadn't even been able to remember his name. 

Vince returned to the room wearing nothing but a towel (on his head), all shy smiles and saying, "All right?" Howard asked him about the photo, expecting a logical explanation. He got an explosion.

"You hid that in MY GIFT!" Vince yelled, "You fucking, manipulative, two-faced fucking bastard!"

"Whoa! Let's discuss this rationally," it sounded foolish to his own ears, but he had no idea what was going on, "I don't even know when this was supposedly taken."

Vince's eyes were glittering with anger as he grabbed the photo from Howard's hands.

"Well, you're kissing her in public, so I'm assuming it's after she left her husband for you, but before she found out you were still fucking someone on the side."

Howard waited for the punch line, but Vince simply tugged on a pair of drainpipes and stormed out of the room.

xxx

As far as Howard knows, he and Vince met when they were seventeen and fifteen, respectively. Vince had just been shoved into a wall, face first. 

Howard had yelled, "What are you doing? You can't go pushing girls!"

The offender pointed out Vince was a "bloke in makeup."

Howard inspected Vince and reeled, "Look what you did to his nose!"

Vince looked in his pocket mirror in terror, "Naw, that's just what it always looks like. I'm like a New Wave ant-eater."

"Oh," was Howard's reply. That was how it all began.


	4. The Strange Tale of the Spotless Mind

Howard took his time getting dressed. He wasn't sure what to say after Vince's bizarre accusation. Mrs. Gideon had been divorced well before she started working at the zoo. She didn't leave her place in a magazine article to talk to Howard; she certainly didn't leave her husband for him. There were a few obvious possibilities: Vince was high, had gone insane, had been replaced by a look-alike, or was under a spell. All four had happened to Vince two New Year's Eve parties in a row. One year, Vince ended up kissing his evil twin at midnight, the ultimate dream of the narcissist (and the source of a few sleepless nights for Howard). 

A parallel universe? That was always possible.

Howard ran into Naboo in the hallway, as he went in search of Vince.

"Hey there, Naboo. You couldn't happen to tell me... Has there been a slip in the time-space continuum? Has Vince been cloned or brainwashed... or both? Have..."

"You're a ballbag, Howard," Naboo said, in an even and non-judgmental tone.

"I was just asking a simple question," Howard snapped, wounded by the unwarranted attack.

"And I just answered it," Naboo continued, "That's what it all comes down to, in the end."

"Yeah, well, thanks, Naboo. You've been loads of help, as usual."

Howard would never understand why Vince put so much faith in the little stoner. The man put the shame in shaman. In a crew that included Tony Harrison, Naboo was a bit of a weirdo. An impressive feat, to say the least.

xxx

Vince felt like he was literally freezing his tits off. He should have grabbed a nice wrap for his dramatic exit. Even the towel covering his hair had fallen off while he was making his way to the roof. He couldn't go back into the house until Howard found him. He needed a gesture.

A cardigan hit the side of his head.

"Put that on, you berk, it's freezing out here. And you've got wet hair," Howard lectured, as he climbed on to the roof, "Care to catch me up, sir?"

Vince looked at the moon, hoping to find some peace and confidence. Instead, he got the creepy feeling he was being eyed by a vanilla rapist. It didn't help.

"When Mrs. Gideon came to the zoo, the two of you had something straight away."

"She never paid me any mind..."

"She fell for you hard. She really loved you," Vince explained, surprised by how much it still hurt. "She left her husband for you, and you broke her heart."

Howard's eyes were shifting back and forth, he was trying to figure out the joke. 

"So, she went to Naboo and had her memory altered. She went back to her husband, with no memory of the whole affair."

"That wasn't my life, that was a Jim Carrey movie," Howard explained, patting Vince's hand. "You're confusing reality and telly again..."

"But her husband remembered what happened, and in the end he couldn't deal with it and left her. So... she came back to the Zooniverse."

Vince remembered the day she returned. It had been like a bad dream. Most of the staff had quit when Bob Fossil took over, so only a handful of them knew the whole story. Poor Mrs. Gideon - Vanessa - couldn't imagine why she had ever left the zoo in the first place. It would have been funny if weren't so fucking sad.

"She literally couldn't remember your name," Vince continued, "That's why she could never remember you. Naboo said it was like a block on her brain, a no-Howard zone."

Howard was smiling, "Now it all makes sense. Can we go back inside?"

"I'm serious, Howard!" Vince cried. "It was horrible! It was the worst possible result. Least 'til you went to Naboo..."

"A good practical joke relies on simplicity..."

"But he fucked up! He made you forget everyone you'd ever loved. That's why you think you're a virgin... were a virgin. That's why you think you're a musical genius..."

"I picked up a guitar, without a single lesson..."

"You took six years of lessons! You had a crush on your guitar teacher. All the bits of your life that don't make sense, it's because a girl was involved. You don't remember any girl you loved, and you were always falling in love." 

Howard scrubbed at his face. Vince couldn't help reaching out to him, trying to offer comfort. Howard looked wary.

"We can go talk to Naboo," Vince offered. "He'll tell you the same thing."

Howard was going to fall off the roof if he didn't stop squirming about.

"Who was this supposed other woman?" Howard asked, starting to sound angry, "The one who destroyed my fake romance with a married woman?"

"Never said it were a woman."

For the second time that night, Howard was able to convey a world of information in one syllable. 

"Oh."

xxx

Howard dragged Vince towards the kitchen. There was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a nice cup of tea.

His brain felt like it was on fire. Vince's mad ramblings were giving him a headache.

And filling his head with strange thoughts.

He remembered Vince as a teen: his hair dry and brittle from too many colorings, his makeup awkward and a bit sloppy. His eyes showing pain even as he whispered, "S'okay, you can keep going. It don't hurt that bad."

Howard shook his head, trying to clear the non-memories.

Vince looked heartbroken. He was swimming in Howard's cardigan, looking small and vulnerable.

Howard's head was swirling with angry and hateful thoughts, words that didn't belong in his head and certainly should never be directed at Vince.

"Vince.."

He couldn't finish the thought, he was too overwhelmed with feelings of anger and resentment for the lovely man in front of him. 

The man who was stroking his hair and saying everything would be all right.

Howard covered his ears and screamed, trying to block out all the noise coming from inside and out.

xxx

Vince wrapped his arms around Howard and held him tight. This Howard was so innocent. He barely remembered his childhood or his father, or any of the things that had made him hard and angry. This Howard bought Vince a lady's blouse for Christmas. This Howard cried in Gideon's Koi pond, and fought a kangaroo for love.

This was the Howard that Vince had helped to create. His Howard.

"Do you want me to get Naboo?" Vince offered.

Howard gave a bitter laugh, "I think I'll go without his help, thank you very much."

He sounded angry, but he didn't pull away from Vince. In fact, he was leaning heavily on Vince's shoulder. 

"It's not so bad, Howard. Most of the things you forgot... they were a bit rubbish anyway. I mean, we can make better memories than them," Vince said, knowing he sounded ridiculous, "We had a better first time tonight than back then."

Howard's anger seemed to be melting, leaving him weak and boneless.

"Let's get you some tea, that always helps."

xxx

Vince's first kiss had been in an alley, against a brick wall. Howard had already hit six feet and Vince was barely 5'6 in heels. 

"Relax," Howard kept whispering, as he tried to get Vince into a suitable snogging position, "just relax your mouth a bit."

Vince really tried, but Howard's directions were doing his head in. 

Howard's hand felt enormous on Vince's arse, and his tongue seemed to take up every square inch of Vince's mouth. It occurred to Vince, he wouldn't be able to talk if his tongue were the size of Howard's.

"Quit laughing," Howard ordered. "It's putting me off."

Vince quit laughing when Howard hauled him off his feet, pinning him to the wall. 

"Your lipstick tastes disgusting," Howard growled, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, holding Vince against the wall with the pressure of his hips.

"Sorry, I got some that tastes like bubblegum..."

He assumed from the tongue tickling the back of his throat, that Howard didn't want him to reapply.

xxx

Vince poured sugar into his tea until it stopped dissolving and started piling up on the bottom of the cup - the way he liked it.

"Our first kiss was behind a shop," he answered honestly, "You had just left Uni and went to work at the zoo..."

"I went to University?"

Vince sighed, "Yes, there was a girl involved with that, too."

"How old were you?" Howard asked, looking concerned. That hadn't changed. Howard had been obsessed with Vince's age then, as well. 

"I was fifteen," Vince answered, honestly, "We wanted to snog to impress a couple of girls."

Howard looked concerned, "That doesn't make sense from any angle."

Howard had been moping for months over his precious Sarah (the reason he had no memory of University). Vince had managed to strike up something of a friendship with Howard via carefully planned use of public transport. Vince had been waiting for an excuse to spend time with Howard (other than on the tube), and a couple of pretty fans of "The Cure" offered the perfect opportunity.

"You fancied these two goth girls we met on the tube, and they thought bisexual guys were hot," Vince explained, feeling a bit nervous. It probably wasn't a good story to start off with.

"Goth girls? That was last year, you berk," Howard said with a roll of his eyes, "and there was no kissing involved."

Vince tried to disappear into Howard's cardigan, "Them were different goth girls. I thought it might make you remember... They were just two girls we met on the tube who were dressed all in black and had white makeup, back before it was a look you'd rock at the mall. They thought I was your boyfriend, and we played along so they'd go out with us."

"As you do," Howard smirked, before wincing in pain and rubbing his temple.

"I said we needed to practice kissing so it would look realistic," Vince admitted. "We kissed behind a shop. I'd never kissed anyone before."

Vince prepared to be scolded, but instead, he got a warm hand on his shoulder. Instead of angry, Howard looked sad.

Vince could feel himself going red at the memory. They had invited the girls to the zoo, after hours, to have a séance. He still remembered the adrenaline rush of sneaking into the zoo, coupled with Howard's proximity, and the chance of another snog.

"I already knew I was more interested in playing with girls' hair than anything," Vince admitted, "but you were all about the ladies. You were constantly falling for..."

"Anyone who showed me the slightest bit of affection?" Howard finished for him. For the first time since hearing the strange tale of his love life, Howard didn't look dubious.

"Not even sure what I was trying to accomplish, really. I just wanted you to like me, and helping you pull those girls..."

"By pretending to be homosexual?"

"Bisexual!" Vince corrected. "It was your fault, really. I was wearing really high heels..."

Howard nodded, "I can see how I was causing the confusion."

Vince ignored him, "I was wearing really high heels, and I kept getting buffeted about, and you were holding my waist so I wouldn't fall."

Vince had done everything under the sun to get closer to Howard. He could be quite grumpy for a seventeen-year-old, but Howard already had a gentlemanly streak to him. The more Vince looked like a girl, the more protective Howard became of him. He felt like a lady. The day they met the original goth girls Vince had been wearing enough eyeliner to make Cleopatra say, "Take it down a notch." Vince had been looking like a girlish Robert Smith while his towering friend physically supported him. Naturally, they had appealed to the girls. It hadn't taken any acting on Vince's part to send the message he was cherishing every touch of Howard's hands on his body. He'd been so innocent back then. He could barely imagine something more erotic than a long fingered hand on his waist as they flirted with the goth girls. He'd felt Howard getting hard against his lower back as the tube tossed them about. Howard's cock, like Howard himself, had seemed both frightening and full of erotic potential. 

"We made plans to meet the girls at the zoo, after it closed..."

Howard looked indignant, "I would never have broken into the zoo..."

"Back then you would," Vince explained. "You were different then.. That's not the point, is it? The point is I said we should snog so it would look realistic if we had to kiss in front of the girls..."

Howard grabbed his head and yelled.

"I'm sorry, Howard," Vince whispered as he stroked Howard's hair, "Let's not talk about it. Tell me about your new screenplay. The one about the genius and the monkey."

Howard put his head on the table.

Vince played with Howard's curls, and willed Naboo to come to the kitchen.

xxx

He was a male Lolita, not the sad and abused Lolita of the great novel, but the sexy, making-pedophilia-seem-okay-under-the-circumstances Lolita of pop culture. His red lipstick was smeared and every time he raised an arm, he showed a little bit of belly. His tight trousers and the oversized jacked tied around his waist looked vaguely like a skirt and stockings. Every time the tube came to a stop, Vince would stagger in his high heeled boots. 

Each time Howard reached out to steady the younger man, he took things a step farther. First, it was just a harmless hand on his back. Soon, he was pinning Vince against his hard-on and stroking the exposed skin of his back and hips. All the while, the kid chattered with the surly looking girls in their funeral garb. Howard normally couldn't be bothered with a girl who looked so high maintenance, but the way "Spyder" licked her lips as Howard ran his hand across Vince's belly made her seem like someone worth getting to know better.

She'd love it if Howard just bent Vince over a railing and dry humped his tight little arse. Vince would probably love it as well.

At first, Howard had been a bit uncomfortable being stalked by a minor. He'd had thoughts about men, but never imagined himself actually following through. It was Vince's mix of girlish clothing and distinctly masculine nose that kept Howard from simply changing his routine and trying another route home. He looked forward to 'running into' Vince on the tube and having the boy flirt with him. The knowledge he could pull Vince into an alley and have him at any time made him feel strong and mature. Of course, Howard Moon believed in love and romance, not shagging horny, under-aged cross-dressers. Still, it was nice to know it was out there as an option.

Sometimes he'd 'accidentally' run his hand across Vince's arse and the younger man would give a small gasp. Howard could just imagine the eager and appreciative noises Vince would make if Howard were ever to take him up on his unspoken offer.

Howard got a blowie from one of Sarah's 'friends' at a party. He'd been pouring his heart out, and she'd made the first move. He'd been disgusted by her disloyalty, but not quite strong enough to turn down an eager mouth on his cock. He'd closed his eyes and pretended it was Vince noisily sucking his dick, making slurping sounds and moaning like a porn star. He'd been so caught up in the fantasy (and the six lagers he'd chugged in an effort to stop thinking about Sarah) that he failed to warn what's-her-name before coming in her mouth. He'd mumbled an apology (he hoped), but in his mind he was still imagining how Vince would have swallowed and licked his lips instead of spitting on to the floor and saying, "It's like raw egg whites."

xxx

 

Howard felt like his brain was on fire. He kept getting flashes of a strange, alternate reality. His fuzzy but happy memories of his early friendship with Vince were being crowded by alien thoughts and images. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to picture Vince back then, with his ridiculous and often skimpy clothes, and silly hair. He always had lipstick on his teeth and continually forgot he couldn't rub his eyes when he was wearing an inch of Kohl eyeliner. Howard had fond memories of helping his young friend rinse out his watering eyes and helping him up when he fell over in his high heels.

How could there have ever been a time that he didn't love Vince? 

"I'm sorry, Howard," Vince repeated. He was stroking Howard's head like he was a cat. The first time Howard saw Vince with an animal, he knew there was something special about his friend. He saw it well before Vince would admit it to himself.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Vince offered, "Or do you want me to put on some jazz?"

Howard couldn't help but smile. Vince offered to listen to jazz the way someone might offer a kidney: with hesitation and fear, but sincere caring.

"It's not as bad as all that," Howard joked, weakly. Vince gave a shy smile and twirled his hair, looking coquettish and demure. 

"I just need some sleep," Howard announced with bravado he did not feel, "Let's just go upstairs, yeah?"

Vince turned pink, and Howard was hit with another wave of unwanted images. He impulsively reached out for Vince, pulling him to his chest and holding him tight.

"I love you, Vince." He said it over and over again, like a mantra.

Vince was wiping away tears as he steered Howard back towards their room. Howard had a million questions, but he was sure he didn't want the answers. He just wanted to hold Vince, in their bed, and let the rest of the world fall away.


	5. Neil Armstrong and Charlie Mingle

Vince helped Howard change their linens. Howard's face was red and he was avoiding eye contact. It was a strange role reversal from their first first time. Back then, it had been Vince who had no idea what he was doing, or if he was doing it well. Howard had dragged him through various levels of intimacy while Vince wondered if his hair looked stupid or if he was making weird faces. 

"Can you remember the first time?" Vince asked, before his single brain cell had a chance to quit ogling his secretary. "On the sofa?"

Vince had been trapped under Howard's weight, equal parts excited and terrified. Howard kept hushing him any time he made the slightest noise, as though someone could possibly hear them in the keeper hut after hours.

Howard leaned against the wall and seemed to be gathering his thoughts, but instead of speaking, he just slid down to the floor and covered his face. Vince climbed over the bed to his friend.

"Howard?"

Tiny brown eyes peeked between long fingers.

"I'm not sure what's real..."

"Tell me what you remember," Vince prompted, hovering over Howard but not daring to touch him. Only a few hours ago, Howard had been a complete innocent, hesitantly returning Vince's kisses and trying not to smoosh him into the couch.

Howard scrubbed at his face and avoided Vince's eyes, "I remember being in the keeper hut... I remember a cake..."

Vince laughed out loud; he'd forgotten that part. Howard looked so nervous, Vince had to give him a quick hug.

"It was my sixteenth birthday. You wouldn't do nothing but kiss until I turned sixteen," Vince remembered, feeling giddy at the memory. "I tried to convince you..."

Howard whimpered and clutched at his head.

"You wouldn't budge, but on my birthday, you bought me a cake and took me to a movie... It was well romantic..."

"And then I groped you on the couch in the keeper hut," Howard said, clearly missing the point of the story.

"No, it was nice," Vince argued, "it was sweet. You were sweet."

As soon as Howard's big, sweaty hand wrapped around his cock, Vince lost all control of his body. He couldn't stop whimpering no matter how many times he was shushed, and he couldn't stop thrusting into Howard's hand, no matter how badly he wanted to try and be a little cool. Everything about being touched by Howard was exciting. When he came (entirely too soon) Howard kissed his nose and gave him an indulgent smile before jerking himself off on Vince's stomach. It was nothing like his romantic fantasies of his 'first time', but he felt safe and wanted, and when Howard came on his belly, Vince felt strangely powerful. He didn't feel tiny and ineffective. He felt special.

Howard looked dubious. 

"Look, Howard, you never pretended it was anything other than it was..."

"What was it?"

"Just getting off. I knew you were with me because I was convenient, not 'cause you were interested, except for... the physical stuff. You never led me on." Vince's mouth was suddenly dry, and it was hard to speak, "You were just... nice. I mean, it's not like you had to buy me a cake or take me out, I'd been offering it up on a platter for months..."

Howard huffed, "I was a real prince."

Vince gently pulled Howard into his arms, "You weren't even eighteen yet, that first time... or the real first time..."

"Real first...? Oh," Howard buried his face into Vince chest, "that."

Vince had been surprised to learn he was still a virgin after getting off with Howard on the couch, but the older boy had been adamant: what they had done wasn't real sex. That would take another month and most of a bottle of olive oil.

It was an effort to stay quiet and not fill the air with idle chatter, but Vince wanted Howard to be able to ask his questions. Vince played with the chipped paint on his fingernails and listened to the sound of Howard's breathing. 

"I have these images..." Howard began awkwardly, "It... I have my hand over your mouth."

Vince laughed and leaned his head on Howard's shoulder, "Yeah, you were always covering my mouth, 'cause I was always being loud. Sometimes you'd cover my mouth before I even made a sound and..."

Howard looked intrigued, "And?"

Vince stared at his fingernails, he really needed a fresh coat, "You would cover my mouth when you knew it was going to be really good and I'd start making noise. It was dead sexy."

"It sounds creepy."

Howard was hesitant as he wrapped his arm around Vince, but Vince happily snuggled in to the embrace.

"Weren't creepy, sexy, more like! I didn't know anything but you knew how to make it really good. That was well exciting, just knowing you knew exactly how to get me off. Even without your memories, look at how good you were tonight."

Howard could never resist an appeal to his ego.

"Well, I would say we had an undeniable rhythm... "

Vince could remember their teen-aged snogging sessions better than he remembered most of the previous week. He could almost feel himself nearly being smothered by one of Howard's sweaty hands as the other stroked their cocks. Vince had kept shifting his head, searching for air, but Howard would grip him even tighter, whispering, "Quiet, Little Man, quiet."

Howard had played at being cool and rebellious in disregarding the rules of the zoo, but it was clear he really cared about his boss, Tommy. He called Tommy an ugly old hobbit and a loony, but it seemed to cause him physical pain when other people criticized his mentor. Howard could be a moody git, but he was deeply loyal to the people he cared about. The fact Howard was always trying to pretend he didn't care about the people he loved, that he was a loner, made him seem mysterious and complicated to a young and naive Vince. It never occurred to his teenage self that Howard's inability to make himself vulnerable to others would also apply to Vince. He'd fancied himself to be the person Howard needed to become whole. 

He never expected to be a casualty of Howard Moon's old-fashioned fear of intimacy.

"We're like Charlie Mingle and Neil Armstrong," Vince teased.

Howard didn't rise to the bait, he just agreed, "Like those great jazz artists, Charlie Mingle and Neil Armstrong."

Vince ran his fingers through Howard's fine hair, perpetually fascinated by its near non-existence, "Things have always been good between us, that way. I don't know what you're thinking about us..."

"I want us... That's it," Howard explained, "I just want us."

Vince wasn't being romantic when he said, "You'll always have me, Howard. I'll always be here."

It was true. Even at his angriest, Vince never actually left Howard. He stayed at the Zooniverse, seething with anger and jealousy, instead of just moving on with his life. The possibility of anything with Howard was better than the certainty of life without him. 

Vince jumped when Howard started kissing his ear.

"Sorry," Howard apologized, trying to scoot out of Vince's arms.

Vince pulled him back, "Sorry, it's just been a while."

Howard kissed his neck, slow and deliberate kisses from his chin to his collar bone. The sky was beginning to lighten. It was nearly morning and it had been a very long night.

"How long has it been?" Howard asked between kisses.

Vince froze.

"What's wrong? Why have you gone all pale...? Well, paler at any rate."

Vince briefly considered just giving Howard an acceptable number and dealing with reality at a later date. Howard already had a million questions, one more half-truth would hardly make a difference.

But Vince was tired of lying.

xxx

Vince gripped Howard's shoulders and buried his face in Howard's long curls as they made love on the beach. They weren't fucking. They weren't bumming. They were making love. 

"You're so beautiful," Howard's eyes were wide with wonder as he spoke, "I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."

Even then, Vince knew it wouldn't last, but he loved every minute of it.

"Almost a year ago," he answered. 

Vince avoided Howard's eyes until the bigger man grabbed him by the chin and held his face still. Howard didn't look angry, just terribly confused.

"A year ago? I... would remember that," Howard pointed out, nervously licking his lips, "That doesn't make sense."

"You went Coco Loco before I did," Vince explained, trying to imagine himself as an actor playing Vince, like he wasn't the one putting his heart on display, "You started calling me Precious."

Vince was frozen in place as Howard caressed the side of his face, calling him "My Beautiful Precious Vince." He'd recited some flowery poetry to Vince before asking, "May I make love to you?"

How could he say no? Howard had clearly gone insane, but Vince was fairly certain he had gone mad as well. It was yet another thing they had in common.

Howard had been nervous, convinced he was inexperienced, but riding Vince was apparently like riding a bike. It all came back to you, eventually.

"The island?" Howard asked, "That was real?"

"You remember the island?"

It had been three years since the last time they'd had sex... as far as Vince could remember, and Vince had felt like a virgin himself. He let Howard draw his own conclusions about Vince's previous experience as he guided his friend through the preparation process. Howard was far more careful and gentle than he had ever been when they were younger. He fussed over Vince until it hurt, full of love and concern and romantic declarations. For two days, they did little else but make love on different parts of their island paradise. Then Vince found Howard back on "his side" of the island, talking to a coconut, and things got a bit strange.. 

"I had... dreams," Howard explained, "After we were rescued... I thought they were just fantasies. Sometimes... I have a dream that I'm with Precious..."

Vince needed to know, "Does she look like a coconut?" 

Howard rolled his eyes, "Why would she look like a coconut? You've been listening to too much New Wave. It's making you go wrong."

"Precious was a coconut! I should know, I made her."

"Precious wasn't a coconut!" Howard argued, "She was a lovely and wonderful..."

"Coconut."

"Symbol of what I wanted from..."

"A coconut?" 

"An intimate relationship," Howard finished, making a gesture so vague, Vince wasn't sure if he was talking about sex or love. Howard frequently got the two confused. When Naboo wiped Howard's memories of love, he took away all of Howard's memories of sex. It was part of the reason Vince could never truly harden his heart to Howard. Howard wanted so desperately to be in love. There was a simple truth to Howard Moon. 

"Tell me 'bout the dream, Howard. I'd like to know what you remember." It was the understatement of the year. 

Howard pulled his knees to his chest like a child, "I'm... well... being intimate with a woman..."

"Who?"

"It's just a vague idea of a woman," Howard continued, seemingly oblivious to Vince's relief. Vince might have cried if Howard said he was thinking about Gideon. Vince wasn't even wearing eye makeup, so there was no reason not to cry.

"She's just this sort of hazy woman, but I care so much about her..." Howard closed his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair, "I really love Precious and want her to be happy and to feel loved..."

"And then she turns into me?"

"And then I think, 'Vince is Precious', and it all changes."

Vince couldn't find a way to properly wrap his arms around Howard's huddled form. It was like trying to cuddle a Mini.

"I weren't ever even sure it was real," Vince admitted, "With all the poetry and declarations of undying love... Seemed a bit like a romantic fantasy. Or a pop song."

"I'm sorry if I wasn't very romantic tonight," Howard said in a terribly serious tone, "I was caught off guard. I didn't have time to prepare. I would have written notes on my hand if I'd known."

Vince gave him an awkward hug, "You were genius, Howard. You're always amazing. The sex has always been amazing. Even when you were being a jerk, you always made it good for me."

"Sometimes I hurt you," Howard was covering his own mouth, like he was hiding his words, "I can remember you saying it hurt..."

Vince laughed and forced his way into Howard's arms, "Course it hurt sometimes, you're huge! And neither of us really knew what we were doin'."

Howard looked both mortified and pleased.

"Took us a while to work things out properly," Vince continued, "But even the first time..."

Howard had gone from reluctantly allowing himself to be pulled from his fetal position to pulling Vince into his lap and hugging him tightly, "Tell me about it. How you remember it."

Vince hid behind his hair and closed his eyes. 

"I tried putting my own finger there after the date with the goth girls, and it just hurt and didn't feel good at all so I was nervous... but I almost came just from having one of your fingers inside..."

"I remember being very nervous," Howard offered, "I remember thinking you seemed so small and fragile."

"You did use a lot of lube! You used a crazy amount of lube that first time," Vince giggled at the memory, "I felt all squishy for days."

Howard was wearing a worried frown.

"Don't be unhappy, Howard," Vince wished he were better with words, and he could make Howard understand how exciting and wonderful even their worst experiences had been, "That first time was good. The island was wonderful. Tonight was amazing."

"Do you think...?" Howard was touching Vince's face and staring at his lips, "If you're not too tired..."

"I'm never too tired for you," Vince purred.


	6. Aardvark Umbrella

Vince chewed on his lip and played with his hair, looking full of nervous energy, but he allowed himself to be undressed like a doll. More than his lack of clothing, his lack of makeup or hair product made Vince look exposed and vulnerable. Since he was a teen, Vince was always wearing "his face".

After their disastrous first snog, Howard went home and took a very long shower. His eroticized jail-bait fantasy girl/boy didn't even know how to kiss. Vince wasn't wet behind the ears, he was soaked. He was a complete innocent with no common sense. Howard wanted to talk to Vince's parents and find out why they were letting their son dress like a rent boy and chase nearly grown men on the tube. Howard promised himself he would start being a better role model to the lad, teach him how to be a proper man - the kind of man Howard eventually hoped to be someday. 

When he had a bit more time.

He couldn't back out. He didn't know Vince's number and couldn't remember his last name. Vince _ Rock'n'Roll Star. He knew the name did not properly rhyme with star. Since most words didn't rhyme with star, he was at a loss.

If he didn't show up at the zoo, Vince and the girls still would. They'd try to break in and it would all fall on Howard's head. He had to go.

Howard kissed the scar on Vince's hip. He'd tended to Vince's burn for a week after his unfortunate tangle with his favorite straighteners . Sometimes Vince would be lying in bed naked when Howard changed his dressing, too miserable to notice he was exposed. Howard would valiantly try not to look and would berate himself for his inappropriate thoughts. It was unequivocally wrong to perv on someone who was in pain and who was looking to you for care and nurturing. 

Even if he was unbelievably beautiful and wearing nothing but a sheet. 

Of course, Vince knew Howard had seen it all before. Only Howard had been left out of the loop on that minor bit of information.

Even as jumbled memories filled his brain, it all felt a bit removed. Brain damaged Howard had become his own person, with his own fuzzy memories. The old Howard had been replaced.

That other Howard was too worried about hygiene and pedestrian definitions of masculinity to fully enjoy Vince. What a pillock.

"If I do something you don't like, just say the word..."

Vince rolled his eyes, "As if that's gonna be an issue..."

"We could have a safe word. Something you won't accidentally say," Howard continued, warming up to the idea of a safe word. Safe fun was always the best kind of fun. "Like aardvark or umbrella."

"Fine," Vince moaned, "I'll say aardvark umbrella if I want you to stop."

Howard kissed Vince's flat stomach, again taking a moment to explore his belly button. He'd been admiring that belly button for years.

They played "Truth or Dare" with the goth girls. Howard's first dare was to snog Vince. Likewise his second and third dares. After Vince's first dare, "Show us your arse," Vince started choosing truth. Truth was even worse, as Vince seemed to think he was under oath. He fully admitted to his lack of experience, and his desire to have those experiences with Howard. Howard was as shocked by the boy's candor as he was by his lack of experience. He was astonishingly innocent. 

"I dare you to lick Vince's belly button," Spyder ordered.

"Lick it like you were eating him out," Fryday squealed.

"Like you're rimming him," Spyder agreed. Howard wanted to point out that it was clearly a violation of the rules for the two to keep throwing out dares in tandem, but (in Howard's experience) girls seemed to find being pedantic to be a turn-off. 

So he held his tongue.

Howard maneuvered himself into position until he was crouched between Vince's splayed legs. Vince was already disheveled, and as soon as Howard started to kiss his stomach, he turned pink and his breathing became shallow. He looked wanton and beautiful, like a heroine on the cover of a trashy romance novel, just waiting to be ravished.

"I don't want to ruin the mood..." Howard hazarded, truly not wanting to ruin the mood but needing an answer.

"What is it, Howard?" Vince looked so vulnerable, Howard's self-loathing was threatening to swallow him whole. He would never understand why Vince loved him so much. In the absence of his memories, Vince's devotion had always seemed a bit odd. Remembering how much he'd hurt his Little Man over the years, it seemed like the symptom of a severe mental illness.

"Is an aardvark umbrella an umbrella used by an aardvark, or an umbrella made from an aardvark?" Howard asked, equally able to picture either creation. Such was the effect Vince had on his beige mind.

Vince gave a shy smile, hiding beneath his fringe, "It's both. It's well creepy, but aardvarks are notoriously hard-hearted." 

Howard laughed and then he went for it. 

Vince was lying on the flood of the keeper hut with his tight black Alice Cooper tee-shirt pulled up just under his nipples. His eyes were saucer-like as he prepared to have his virginal belly button penetrated in front of a couple of stroppy girls. At the time, Howard tried to feel a little ironic detachment, but that was never his forte. Howard Moon was a man of great feeling, and the ridiculous boy tugged at Howard's heart strings. When he ran his tongue from the top of Vince's jeans to his belly button, Vince bucked his hips and Spyder said, "Oh. My. God."

Howard tried to put on a show, exaggerating every lick and flick for his audience, but he had to hold Vince tight to keep him from squirming. Now that he knew Vince was a virgin, Howard felt a responsibility to protect the boy from himself. When he licked his finger and pressed it into Vince's belly button, the boy jumped causing Howard's finger to dig into his flesh.

"Will you just lie still, before you hurt yourself!" Howard barked, pinning Vince's hands to his sides, "You're like an impatient little kid."

Fryday whispered, "That's right, daddy."

Vince made a valiant effort to keep his hands at his side as Howard explored his tummy. He was hairier than one would expect from an androgynous sprite. Howard had a surprising urge to follow the treasure trail of hair from Vince's belly button to under his tight jeans. There was a damp spot from where Vince seemed to be leaking like a sieve, and Howard knew that if he just pressed his lips to that spot, he could make Vince come. There was no doubt in his mind that he could bring Vince off with just a little bit of pressure through his denim. He settled for exhaling onto the twitching bulge of Vince's trousers. There was no way he would take advantage of the inexperienced minor underneath him.

He asked Vince when he'd be sixteen.

"Three months, two weeks and seven days."

Spyder suggested they have a birthday party. Howard laughed and made suggestive comments about taking Vince from being, "an innocent young girl to a man," but he knew where he'd be in three months, two weeks and seven days. He would be in the keeper hut with Vince, but there wouldn't be an audience.

Vince moaned obscenely as Howard tongued his navel.

The stroppy girls could listen to Robert Smith on their own. Howard was not going to want any distractions.

He ended up getting a blowie from Fryday while Vince and Spyder watched. They were supposed to be snogging in the other room, but he kept seeing their faces peeking around the corner. 

Howard pretended not to notice, until he was almost ready to come. Then he looked eyes with Vince , who was squatted down beside the door, and whispered, "Suck me." 

Vince fell over.

Howard tried to remember performing oral sex on Vince, but no memories surfaced. He was going to have to wing it. Fortunately, he suddenly had a deluge of memories of receiving oral sex. He remembered Vince's early attempts, complete with gagging, tears and the words, "Ew! It's gone up my nose!"

But he also remembered later endeavors, after Vince had learned to relax and take Howard all the way down his throat. He remembered how Vince would caress his balls with one hand as the other worked the base of his shaft. 

Howard's mouth was dry with nerves, so he took it slow. He licked the head of Vince's cock, tasting the salty precum. He was prepared for it to be disgusting, but the taste wasn't especially strong. 

"Fuck me," Vince whispered. It wasn't an invitation, at least not yet, it was clearly an expression of pure surprise. The old Howard had been a pillock. 

Howard licked Vince's cock until it was wet enough to start sucking. Vince was gently stroking Howard's hair, so gentle it was a bit tickly. Despite all they'd shared in the past few hours, Howard felt nervous at the intimacy of Vince's caress. Vince was acting like a man very much in love.

Howard mouthed Vince's balls, and stroked his cock. His friend had gone preverbal. Vince looked boneless, sprawled across the bed with his legs wide open. He whimpered and groaned, but he no longer seemed able to muster words like, "Howard" or even vague obscenities. He licked his finger, trying to get it good and wet, before pressing it to Vince's puckered opening. The muscle felt impenetrable, and yet Howard knew from personal experience, it could be penetrated. He pushed a little harder and Vince yelped.

"I'm so sorry," Howard apologized, "I didn't mean to hurt you, are you all right? What can I do?"

Vince rolled to his bedside drawer and retrieved his lubricant. He guided Howard in drizzling the clear gel directly on Vince's hole. The second time, his finger slid in with no trouble. 

It felt inappropriate, but Howard still said, "Thank you."

Vince laughed and promised, "It'll all come back to you. Like riding a bike, I am."

Howard was treading carefully, he'd already taken Vince twice in one night and assumed he was sore and tender. 

The lubricant tasted strange, but Howard was surprised by how little he cared. Vince regained the power of speech once Howard was able to work his tongue inside his body.

"Fucking... Oh, fuck. Fucking hell. Oh sweet... fuck me." 

It was a random selection of swears, but it made Howard smile. He was having the desired effect. He experimented, trying to find the best approach, but Vince seemed to be going crazy for every attempt with equal enthusiasm. He alternated fingering Vince and tonguing him until he was shaking and pushing Howard away.

"What's wrong?" Howard asked, wrapping a sheet around Vince's pale shoulders. He looked very small, like he could be taken away by a stiff breeze, "aardvark umbrella?"

Vince was nearly fetal, squeezing his bits together tightly as he buried his face in a pillow.

"Sorry," Vince whimpered, his voice muffled by a designer pillow case, "It's just.... I've never felt like that."

"Is it good?"

"Not sure," Vince admitted, peeking his head up for a moment, "Are your teeth supposed to buzz?"

Howard coaxed Vince to relax, kissing the inside of his thighs but leaving his more sensitive bits alone.

Vince unnecessarily informed Howard that they'd never, "done that before."

"I wanted to," Howard admitted, after rolling Vince onto his belly so he could admire his pale bottom, "but I was afraid of... things."

"Like germs?"

Like being a bender and a pervert. Two words that had been used interchangeably during his childhood. Poofters and nonces. Unable to actually keep his hands off of Vince's nubile body, Howard had tried to create a system of rules that would prevent him from sliding down that slippery slope towards being a freak. Howard wouldn't have sex with Vince when he was 15 years, 11 months and 29 days old - that would have been immoral. The day Vince turned sixteen, he was fair game. Even then, Howard thought he could resist going 'all the way', like he'd only be half a pervert if he only used his hands on Vince.

Howard rolled Vince onto his front so he could kiss and knead his shapely arse cheeks. His bottom grew and shrank with passing fashions, but it was never anything but squeezable. When he parted the cheeks and licked at Vince's entrance, Vince whimpered but made no effort to squirm away.

"You can do it, again," Vince offered, "I'm a little sensitive... Oh, Christy that's good... What was I...? Oh, yeah. You can top me again, I'm ready."

It seemed like a terrible idea, but Howard was weak. A couple pillows under Vince's hips and little more lubricant and he was able to slide in with ease. Vince was making quiet, guttural noises with each thrust, nothing like the desperate whimpers of earlier that evening.

"Is it good?" Howard asked, unable to rely on his own perception. Clearly, Howard Moon couldn't see a forest because there were too damned many trees in the way.

Vince chuckled and gave him a thumbs up. Howard took his time, trying different angles and speeds until Vince was fisting the sheets and making a strange keening sound. Howard thought about every wasted moment of the past... however many years, determined to make it last. He was caught off guard when Vince came. He hadn't even touched his dick, Vince had gotten off from Howard's cock in his arse. 

Howard had wasted years trying to feel 'significant' and 'important'. Watching Vince's back arch, he felt like a god. He felt slightly less god like when he barely had time to sputter, "Oh, fuck," before coming, himself. He'd been lost in the moment and hadn't been paying proper attention. The worst orgasm is pretty amazing, but Howard hated to waste any opportunity with Vince. There seemed to be no reason for each time not to blow his mind apart.

He was lying on Vince's back, and Vince was awkwardly trying to hug him (though his arms simply didn't bend that way).

Howard tried to shake the spider webs from his mind. 

"I think I need some sleep, Little Man," he confessed. Drowsiness was making his body feel heavy. He pulled Vince into his arms and kissed his forehead before remembering that might not be a welcomed gesture (all things considered). 

Vince snuggled into Howard's arms and purred when Howard stroked his backside. Drama queen that he was, Vince gave no indication he was any worse for wear for being so over-used. When Howard dipped a finger between his cheeks, Vince twitched, but he didn't pull away. Howard's finger went in with ease.

"Do you need something for pain?" Howard asked, "We could wake up Naboo..."

"Toldja, Howard, I want to feel you."

Howard's wedding tackle was exhausted, but in his mind, Howard was ready to roll Vince onto his back and have another go. He couldn't imagine a better scenario than Vince being unable to walk or sit down without thinking about Howard.


	7. Precious

Howard's hands were sweating, but Precious was giving him a shy smile as she arranged herself on the bamboo bed. She'd literally made the bed. She was so full of creativity, there was nothing she couldn't turn into something beautiful. Howard believed that, in her hands, even he could be something special and lovely.

"I'm not sure how to begin," he confessed, putting himself at her mercy. She could be mercurial, but at heart, she was kind. She huffed and tossed her hair and looked ready to say something unkind, but perhaps she saw something in Howard's face, because she seemed to melt. Her frown turned into another shy smile as she tried to hide behind her raven black hair.

"May I touch you?" he asked, slowly approaching her. He immediately fell back on his zoo training. She wasn't an animal, but she was a little wild. Life hadn't fully domesticated her. Perhaps it was the island. There were no student loans or cholesterol counts on the island. She just lived for the day.

Precious held out a hand and Howard clutched it like a life line. He hadn't realized he was drowning until he met Precious.

Howard kissed every available inch of skin before daring to pull her red blouse from her pale shoulder. As he explored the alabaster flesh, he could see Precious becoming self-conscious.

"Is something wrong, Precious?"

Precious pushed him away, "Quit calling me that. It's creeping me out."

It stung, but Howard wasn't fooled. Her anger was hiding a deeper pain. Just because Precious wasn't a virgin didn't mean she was 'experienced'. She was no more accustomed to romance than Howard.

"I want to make love to you, Precious. I want to be gentle and careful, and I want to make you feel good," Howard explained, "And if you ask me to, I'll leave right now."

"Then piss off," she snapped, pulling her black clad legs to his chest, "I'm tired of this game."

"It isn't a game," Howard promised as he began backing out of the hut. It wasn't pride, but love that kept him from begging. He wanted Precious to give herself willingly, not out of pity or because she was tired and lonely, "I'll be on my side of the island."

"Don't, Howard. Just... don't talk so much."

He took it as a challenge to show her how much he cared, how much he treasured her.

It was tempting to move quickly. He'd been alone for so long and she was too beautiful for words. Her crooked nose and pointy chin gave her an appeal that couldn't come from a traditionally attractive face. She was unique and irreplaceable. When he asked permission to remove her top, she reminded him he wasn't meant to be talking.

She tried to act casual, but her pale hands kept moving to cover her body. 

"You look beautiful," Howard assured her, expecting to be glared at or told off, but instead he received a passionate kiss from his capricious lady. In fact, he was soon on his back as Precious stripped him. She was stronger than she looked, but that was no surprise. She'd always been the strong one.

His hands felt too big and clumsy for her delicate form, and when he stoked her between her legs, she felt far too small and tight for what he has in mind. He was still trying to think of the words to ask her what they could do that wouldn't be painful for her, when she provided the solution. Precious had been making her own moisturizing lotion since landing on the island. She often claimed to be dim, but there was never a situation beyond her ken. She rose to every occasion. 

Howard tried to stay out of her way as she stretched herself. She promised it wouldn't take her long, as though he could ever tire of waiting for her.

"Don't rush, Precious. I don't want to cause you any pain."

"Oh, hell, Howard," she sighed, "Too late for that."

She wouldn't hear his apologies, insisting that they communicated better when they didn't speak. She tried to roll over, but he wanted to see her face, it was the only way he could be sure he wasn't hurting her. She'd never admit it. 

Once he was inside of her, the awkwardness melted away. Howard suddenly knew just how move to make her cry out and dig her nails into his back. He was a blank slate when it came to the ways of the flesh, but something deep inside of him always knew how to love his Precious Vince.

xxx 

Vince woke up in pain. His head was throbbing and the sun seemed to be shining directly into his eyeballs like he had transparent eyelids. 

There were also the various aches that reminded him he hadn't left the club alone.

Harold Boon! 

Vince shot up in bed, nearly losing his stomach in the process. He covered his eyes with his hands so he could peek through his fingers. Although he was frightened for a moment, it was Howard's disheveled curls peeking out from under the duvet, not Harold's.

Vince remembered snogging Harold in the men's room. Harold had called him Lance the whole time, but he was tall and Northern and his hair was soft and fine...

But when he put his hand in Vince's pants, it was all wrong. Howard had jerked Vince off so many times, he could (and nearly did) do it in his sleep. Harold's grip was all wrong and Vince ended up crying. Harold put him in a cab and sent him home. As he tried to care for Vince, Harold was so awkward and completely uncomfortable, it was a bit like being with Howard. He almost changed his mind.

That had him crying the whole way home. He had been a pathetic, horny, Howard-obsessed mess when he stumbled through the door.

Vince's brain was spinning as he desperately tried to make sense of the previous evening when Howard began to stir. Vince panicked and threw a pillow over Howard's head.

"What are you playing at?" Howard snapped, "I just had the strangest dream."

Vince pulled the covers up to his chin, and tried to think of a good reason for being naked and for the state of their sheets.

"What was it about? Jazz? Globes? Pritt Sticks?" Vince asked, trying to be casual as he pushed the bottle of lube off the bed with his foot.

Howard scrubbed at his face, "We were on the island, but I kept calling you Precious..."

Vince made a non-committal noise as he waited for Howard to continue. Howard had been a blank slate on the island, more so than after the initial memory blocking spell. For two days, he was madly in love with Precious, and then he was talking philosophy with a coconut. Just like that, Vince was no longer Precious, and he didn't have enough to offer as a friend to be included in the Coconut Lodge. He was nothing.

He had worked himself into a proper rage, tormenting the half-crazed Howard with Coconut Precious, but no one could torture Howard like Howard. It wasn't long before Howard was sporting a self-inflicted black eye and hiding away in his hut. 

"You said last night..." Howard turned pink and averted his eyes. So he did remember the previous night. "I'm not sure if it was a memory or..."

"I think you should talk to Naboo," Vince suggested, feeling a bit guilty, "I'm not sure how this all works."

Howard nodded, "I know, I will."

Vince hazarded a hand on Howard's shoulder. Instead of pulling away, Howard took his hand and kissed it. Vince was so relieved, he felt dizzy.

"I will never be that guy again," Howard promised, "If you're willing to trust me, I promise I will never take you for granted or make you feel second best ever again."

Howard suddenly sprang out of bed, naked, and crossed the room before Vince could respond. Vince was appreciating the view when Howard bent over, but felt queasy when he saw he was holding the picture of Howard and Gideon.

"I'll burn this. Naboo can wipe my memory again and it will only be you," Howard said, his voice raspy with emotion, "Or whatever you think is best. This time, you can decide."

Vince was tempted, because Howard hadn't yet realized Vince already took a stab at re-inventing Howard. There were things he'd rather Howard not remember, and Vince's behavior after the memory spell was going to be hard to justify. 

"Howard, I think you need to know everything, you know, before you make any big decisions..."

"I know everything I need to know," Howard said quietly. Vince was about to argue when Howard handed him the Gideon photo. The last thing he wanted to see was Howard in her arms, but Howard was holding the picture upside down.

Vince recognized Howard's handwriting. It said, "She loves her husband. Don't forget that Vince is precious."


	8. Deep in the Juju

Naboo was deep in the Juju (Juju being the name of his best and most productive marijuana plant) when Vince and Howard came knocking on his door.

"That'll be George and Mildred," Naboo sighed, "Put a kettle on, Bollo."

Naboo had only lived on Earth for 12 of his 400+ years, but it hadn't taken him long to adjust. Once he worked out that tea was for drinking and not smoking, his transition had been pretty smooth. Being from an advanced race, Naboo felt like a king among ballbags. Howard and Vince were perfect examples of human failings. They were in love, more than sexually compatible, and the closest of friends. Instead of just spending their brief lives thinking of new ways to utilize their orifices, they wasted their time being unhappy and lonely (even when they were together).

"Come in," Naboo called from his chaise lounge. It wasn't worth getting up, there would be a lot of blabbing before the men got to their point.

The men were a mess, as expected. Having spent the night having noisy, happy sex, they both looked frightened and sad. Vince was without makeup and his hair was hanging lifeless around his face. Howard looked as disheveled as usual, but he was hovering behind Vince and imitating his body language down to the pigeon-toed stance. It was a complete reversal from their usual presentation.

"Glad you gave the bed springs a rest," Naboo observed, "Hope you're drinking lots of fluids."

Vince's eyes went wide and he covered his mouth like a child, while Howard went red and tried to shrink into his rollneck. 

"I haven't got all day," he prompted, "Let's get straight to the problem. Me and Bollo are playing snooker with Saboo and the D-man in a few hours, so we're going to have to smoke a field to be high enough for that party."

Vince had the decency to look sympathetic. Unlike Howard, Vince understood networking. If Howard had one quality that Naboo truly admired, it was his ability to be completely self-absorbed. For all his claims of big dreams, Howard failed at every turn to actually behave in a way other people considered acceptable. From his first day at the zoo, he'd been completely overbearing with his opinions, and transparent with his motivations. Among the excessively complicated humans, he was a breath of fresh (if a bit dickish) air.

Howard, openly indifferent to Naboo's pain, shoved a picture into his hands. In the picture, a clean-shaven and neatly dressed Howard was kissing Vanessa Gideon outside the Chameleon Lounge. It was a jarring image. Although the people of Xooberon were known for their extensive memories, Naboo smoked a lot of pot. He'd nearly forgotten what Howard looked like back in those days. On the rare occasions that Naboo thought about the past, he always pictured Howard with a mustache, but that hadn't come until after the memory loss spell. The 'tache was part of the new and improved Howard.

Naboo turned the picture over, and was unsurprised to see Howard had written himself a note. What a ballbag.

"How much do you remember?" he asked. It could take years for a memory spell to reverse, and Howard's had been especially complicated. 

Howard shrugged, "I don't know. A lot, but I know it's not everything..."

Howard collapsed onto Naboo's couch, looking like a broken doll. Naboo's most faithful customer, Howard had never looked so lost before. He wasn't as full of piss and vinegar as he'd been before Gideon, but Howard was generally pretty chuffed with himself. Howard looked older than his years, with frown lines and crow's feet that didn't belong on a man in his mid twenties. 

"Problems?" Naboo asked.

"Can you make me forget, too?" Howard asked, his eyes full of a deep pain. Naboo hadn't thought Howard was capable of such strong feelings. Naboo didn't ask for an explanation. He'd been pretty high the day he heard Gideon was coming back to the zoo, and he'd had a good chuckle about it. Humans never thought anything out. It was her own look-out for not reading the fine print.

Howard was the type to read fine print.

"Can you make me forget all of them?" Howard continued with a joyless laugh, "All the girls I've wasted my life on?"

"What about Precious?" Naboo asked, knowing his face showed no expression. The heavy gravity on Earth always made Naboo look a bit serious. It was one of the things he liked about Earth.

Howard stared at his hands and licked his lips. Naboo was tempted to make a sarcastic joke, but Howard was paying him good money for the session. He should at least pretend Howard wasn't as easy to read as the signs Vince kept putting on Howard's back.

"The thing about Precious is..." Howard dropped his head into his hands, "She doesn't really exist. That is, she does, but she's..."

Naboo bit his tongue. Howard was such a transparent ballbag, but it would be good for the man to say it out loud. 

"Precious is actually... she's Vince. Vince is Precious."

"So you don't really have a girlfriend who looks and talks just like Vince and works at the zoo and spends every minute with you and yet I've never met her?" Naboo asked, "You really pulled the wool over my eyes with that one. You should go into politics."

Howard was too lost in his pain to notice Naboo's mockery, "If Vince were a girl, I would marry him. I would take care of him, and treat him right and never cheat on him..."

"He don't need to be a girl for you to be faithful," Naboo pointed out, although he knew what Howard was saying. Howard believed he needed a wife and children to be a real man. He was a child when it came to relationships, a little boy still trying to fix the problems of his childhood with the right mommy surrogate.. Vince was in love and saw Howard as complicated and brooding. Naboo had lived 400 years and could see Howard for the babe he was.

"You want to forget Vince as well?" Naboo asked, pulling out the appropriate paperwork.

Howard stared at his feet for a long time before answering.

"Yeah. I need to forget Vince."

xxx

"Do you remember asking for the memory loss spell?" 

Howard shook his head no, "I mainly remember earlier things. I don't remember Gideon very well."

"Did you and Vince shag?" Naboo asked as he went through his check list.

Howard blushed and nodded, "Yes, but I didn't remember anything until I saw the picture."

It made sense. The picture had been of Gideon, but it was Vince that was activating the majority of Howard's synapses. Naboo had enough unfortunate run-ins with Howard and Vince while they were sneaking around on Gideon, he knew just about every sexual position would activate a memory for Howard. 

It had been like a sexual haunted house. Around every corner of the Zooniverse, there had been a chance that one might come across Howard and Vince screwing each others' brains out. 

In his mind, Howard thought he was clever and discreet, but his brain didn't work properly when it came to Vince. It never had.

"I can speed the process up, but it's pretty unpleasant," Naboo offered.

"The physical pain of synapses firing or the disequilibrium of remembering?" Howard asked. Naboo had to admit it was a good question.

"I meant that your memories are a bit rubbish, but those other things are unpleasant as well."

"I'll just wait it out then, shall I?" Howard suggested, his eyes shifting about more than usual. Vince was carefully avoiding Naboo's eyes.

"It takes 24 hours to fully take effect," Naboo explained, "All those neural pathways have to close, and any new memories you make can fuck it all up. You're going to have to avoid all the women you want to forget and any reminders of them. Get a hotel or something. Listen to jazz, and watch nature documentaries. That kind of thing."

Howard gave a solemn nod before taking a drink of the serum. Naboo had been helping Howard through his romantic problems since the young man arrived at the zoo, and he couldn't deny having a soft spot for the confused and heartbroken man in front of him. If he hadn't been so fond of Vince, he might have sabotaged Gideon's memory loss spell. In the end, Gideon and Howard were better off apart, but it was hard to see Howard so devastated. 

Howard drained the glass.

"So, I'll go... somewhere," Howard announced as he stood up, "Thanks, Naboo. I know you don't really understand, but... thank you."

Naboo shrugged and watched Howard walk away, looking lost and dejected. His phone beeped with an incoming text. It was Vince saying he was on his way.

"One thing, though," Howard licked his lips nervously, "I don't really understand... I didn't remember being, well, intimate with Vince, but I remembered his friendship. I don't remember anything about the other women."

"It's a tricky spell and it takes a while to kick in. You ran into Vince before your memories disappeared. Apparently, you remembered enough to write yourself a little note as well," Naboo explained.

Howard looked thoughtful. Vince's face went from confusion, to understanding, to shock to embarrassment in a matter of seconds.

"Why did you...?" Vince trailed off and kicked at the ground like a child.

"Why did I what?" Howard asked gently, "I don't want any more secrets between us."

Vince looked at Naboo who offered him another shrug. 

"Naboo sent me a text, telling me to come to his kiosk right away," Vince explained, "That's why I ran into you."

Howard asked Naboo if he'd intentionally bungled the spell. Naboo said yes.

"Well, um, thank you, sir. I suppose you've been helpful," Howard said, "Soooo... I guess we'll see you around."

Vince started to follow Howard out of the room, but hesitated.

"Naboolio?" It wasn't really a question, but Naboo knew the answer. 

"I like you, Vince," Naboo explained, "but, I did it for him. Howard's got no idea how to be happy, and I was sick of listening to him whine about it. Was able to buy this shop off his counseling fees though..."

Vince smiled, "Cheers, Naboo. You're a gem."

Vince was all but bouncing as he left the room, eager to follow Howard wherever he went. Whether it was chasing Howard into Monkey Hell or watching him make a cup of Darjeeling, everything was an adventure for Vince if he was with his beloved Howard. Howard didn't know how to be happy, but Vince sure did.

Naboo had been hearing about "Precious" for over a year when she finally arrived at the Zooniverse. After Tommy disappeared under mysterious circumstances (and no one bothered to check the Jungle Room), teenaged Howard was suddenly one of the most experienced and knowledgeable zoo keepers on board. Fossil was still convinced Naboo was a mute based on the one time he'd tried to talk to Naboo while he was wearing headphones and listening to Tusk, so he felt free sharing all his deepest fears and feelings with the shaman. He expressed his creepy love and hero worship for Bambridge, how he was intimidated by Howard's knowledge of 'the furry people we keep in cages' and his need to keep anyone from actually questioning Tommy's disappearance. Like most people, Naboo knew Tommy was in the Jungle Room. He frequently brought the nutter cheese and listened to his songs that only made sense when you were deep in the Juju. Naboo liked Tommy, but the guy was a menace. Only guilt-stricken Howard, who blamed himself for failing to keep tabs on his eccentric mentor, was sorry to see Tommy lose control of the zoo. Fossil and Bambridge were idiots, but at least they didn't have creepy cheeseheads that put everyone off their dinner.

Fossil allowed Howard to hire Vince for the purpose of keeping Howard occupied. 

"Howard likes ladies with boy parts," Fossil explained, "If he has Vince around, he won't notice I'm running this zoo into the ground with my extreme incompetence. Hey, Naboo? Would you like to hear a little song I wrote? Well, too bad! We didn't get a choice in 'Nam! 'NAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM! Oh, look. There's the rest of my sandwich. It fell into my shirt and lodged between my man boobs..."

Naboo had figured out "Precious" was a man the first time Howard mentioned "her". He was high, not stupid, but he was still surprised by Vince Noir. He'd had an image of a pretty boy with girlish features, and demure personality. Howard described his "Precious" as the opposite of the girls he normally fancied (and who crushed him under their sensible heels). 

Vince arrived with black hair (streaked with red), dressed like Madonna in the eighties, had a nose like a boxer, and his first words to Naboo were, "Oi! What are you lookin' at?" He seemed like more of a rough trick Howard had picked up off a street corner than the innocent "Precious" that Howard loved, but could not commit to. Over time, it became apparent that Vince was more bark than bite, but after he'd established himself as someone not to be "fucked with", he relaxed. Under his rough exterior, Vince was a gentle soul. He communicated with the animals, and his presence softened Howard (who could be a bit of a pill). Together, they joked and went on adventures, and even wrote little songs. They would have been a nauseatingly cute couple, if Howard had allowed them to be a couple. He continued to date girls, though he could never stay away from Vince for long. Gideon was the first woman to make Howard Moon faithful.

At least for a little while.


	9. Meaning Making

Vince considered a dozen yarns he could spin for Howard, tales that made him sound a bit better than in reality. In a few scenarios, he was a borderline hero.

"I was angry and jealous that you chose Gideon over me so when you lost your memory, I told you that you were a virgin and afraid of women."

Howard just nodded.

"Don't you get it?" Vince persisted, "I didn't want you to find someone else, so I did my best to make you doubt yourself. I wanted you to be all mine, but then you wouldn't even make a move on me! I did everything I could to get your attention, but you just kept up this mentor bullshit and acting like I was a little kid..."

Howard's expression remained placid, but Vince was waiting for the blow-up. Naboo had explained to him how the human mind had a natural tendency toward "meaning making", and that memory loss spells only worked because the human would always find a way to make sense of their memories, no matter how nonsensical. Howard was no exception, he was eccentric as hell without his memories, but he seemed to think nothing was amiss. He was just a good looking man in his mid-twenties who had never managed to kiss a girl or hold her hand. Howard chalked it up to being too young-looking for his old soul so he grew a mustache. 

He'd always had a fondness for jazz, something he shared with his beloved late grandmother, but he became a fanatic. He would listen to jazz night and day, going into 'jazz trances', even developing a bizarre fantasy as to why he could play the trumpet like a madman but had no memory of learning the instrument. Howard had lost his virginity to his 45-year-old trumpet instructor. Vince would have liked1 to have met the woman, as she really seemed to balance teaching and sleeping with Howard rather well. Howard was both a skilled trumpet player and a lover. Some would call her a pathetic woman past her prime, but Vince thought she was a terrific multi-tasker. Having discovered the joys of sex through music lessons, Howard would forever associate music lessons with romance and passion - thereby deleting all his musical memories. Where his memories failed, his imagination kicked in and drew the logical conclusion that he was a musical genius and had probably sold his soul to the Spirit of Jazz (whom he met at a get together at Naboo's).

Ironically, Vince had set the stage to be the only love in Howard's life, but he'd also tripled Howard's fears of intimacy. Vince could wear a skin tight jumpsuit and lipstick, flirt shamelessly and refuse to give Howard one inch of personal space and their relationship still remained platonic. At the Zooniverse, it had been sad to be so close to Howard and yet so far. Once they were sharing a flat and a bed, it was unbearable, but Howard remained immune to Vince's flirting and provocation. Even the double date with a couple of goth girls didn't trigger a memory in the Northerner. Vince's heart broke on a daily basis, and yet he could not be unhappy. Howard was nearly untouchable, but he still belonged to Vince in a way he never had before. This Howard needed Vince.

Howard made Vince's tea just as he liked it, 80% sugar and milk, while looking deep in thought.

"I didn't mean to hurt you... Well, I did. I was really mad at you," Vince confessed, "Because of the spell and because of Gideon and because..."

"Did we make love in front of Vanessa?" Howard asked, still staring at the tea. He didn't look angry, just thoughtful.

"She married her first boyfriend," Vince offered, "She never sowed her wild oats... before you, that is. She wanted to try a threesome."

Vince had only ever been with Howard. He liked the way girls looked and smelled, but it was an aesthetic appreciation. Vince no more wanted to shag a girl than he wanted to get off with a nice oil painting. When Howard nervously put forth the suggestion, Vince didn't hesitate to agree, because he hadn't been allowed to touch Howard in four months. Howard was trying very hard to be faithful to his married girlfriend.

"I know it's wrong to even ask this of you," Howard explained, "but I hate to deny her anything and... we have history, Vince. You know I'll be careful... gentle, and I know you won't, you know..."

Vince knew what he meant. Howard didn't want anyone to threaten his relationship with Gideon (other than her husband), so he wanted someone who didn't fancy girls. It was insulting and degrading, and Vince said yes because he was desperate to be with Howard one more time. 

Howard slumped against the counter, "It's all a bit difficult, this."

Vince threw his arms around Howard, knocking the tea cups out of his hands.

"I've been a prick at times, but I love you, Howard. I just want to be with you." It felt good to say it out loud. "There's never even been anyone but you... and sort of Gideon."

"Sort of Gideon?"

Vince enjoyed Gideon's breasts, which were as soft and touchable as he'd always imagined tits would be, but he wasn't overly interested in anything else she had to offer. Howard guided Vince's hands between her legs, showing him how to make her moan and beg for more, but all Vince cared about was the big hand holding his own and the look of fascination on Howard's face.

"She and I never... there was just a bit of petting between us and then you, you know, sorted us both out."

Howard looked thoughtful for a moment before his lips began twitching beneath his mustache. 

"Sorted you both out? You have a way with words, Little Man."

Vince couldn't help but smile. He'd gone into that evening convinced he'd never be able to perform in front of Gideon, but unable to resist the chance to be with Howard one more time. Fossil could have been watching, and Vince still would have been on his knees, whimpering like a puppy as Howard fucked him. Vince couldn't be without Howard and it was apparently a two way street. It was less than a month after their ménage a trois that Howard was giving him a feel up in the aviary, and swearing him to secrecy. 

"All I ever wanted since I was fifteen was to be a rock star and be your boyfriend," Vince explained, "sometimes I fuck up, I know I fuck up, but I really love you. I've always loved you."

"I know, Little Man," Howard said, fondly, "Now help me clean up this tea and we can go upstairs and... create some new memories."

It was so cheesy, Vince had to laugh. He'd always loved Howard's old fashioned sense of style and sense of humor. He'd tried to bring those sides out in his new and improved Howard. He had a feeling it made him kind of a bad person, but Vince couldn't be sorry for the Howard he had created. For his failings, his Howard was something rare and special. He was a gentleman spanning the decades. He mixed fifties and eighties fashion with music from the 60's and the naughties. He would have been equally strange at any point in time, because Howard was truly unique and refused to toe the line when it came to fashion or any form of normality.

"You're not mad?" Vince asked over his shoulder as he ran to get a tea towel.

Howard looked somber as he squatted down to sweep up the shards. Vince knelt next to him and started mopping up tea.

"When you came home last night, looking so dejected," Howard finally began, "I hated whoever or whatever made you so unhappy."

Vince decided it was better he not bring up Harold Boon. Harold had been kind to Vince, he didn't deserve an eyeball full of glass shards.

"I hate how often I've made you unhappy," Howard continued, "It's making my head hurt."

Vince wrapped his arms around Howard, this time a bit less vice-like, and rocked them back and forth.

"I was sad last night, because I had found a way to be so close to you, to be better mates than we were before, but I made it so I couldn't touch you. I'm not a sex fiend or anything, but I love being with you."  
Nothing ever made Vince feel as good as he felt during a bit of post-coital snuggling. It never lasted long (Howard being big on hygiene) but for a few moments, Vince could lie in Howard's arms and feel totally at ease with the world.

Howard fussed with his hair and explained that it was the jazz fusion that made him such a skilled and attentive lover.

For all his talk, Howard was shy about actually returning to the bedroom. Vince would not say no to another bumming, but good sense told him he needed a break. When he tried to explain it to Howard, he was shushed.

"I want you to, well, that is... If you wouldn't mind, I thought we could... Hmm."

Vince listened to Howard stammering while his mind screamed, He does not want a bumming! Howard could never even joke about letting Vince, or any man, top him. It was a line he couldn't cross.

"I've always been afraid," Howard continued, "but I'm not afraid, now. Make love to me, Vince."

"Bollo be sick."

Vince and Howard both jumped at the sound of Bollo's voice. The shaman familiar/Camden DJ/gorilla was on the stairs, looking horrified.

Vince could hear Naboo snort and mimic, "Make love to me, Vince. Yes, sir, right sir. Chicka-chicka..."

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Howard announced, his chest puffed out with pride, "what Vince and I have is a love that defies convention. It is a greater love that you have ever witnessed and it is to be admired and celebrated. Now if you don't mind, Vince is going to roger me senseless."


	10. The First First Time

Howard tried fingering Vince a few times before actually sticking it in. He'd been reading pamphlets and his mother's Cosmos, so he had some idea of what he needed to do. Unfortunately, his partner was tiny and nervous. Once the fingers were in, Vince was in heaven. He bucked and moaned in a way that tested Howard's resolve not to take things too quickly, but before the moans of ecstasy, came a lot of grimaces and "ouches". 

When he finally had the nerve to try, after buying Vince a Kiss patch and a bag of jelly tots, he had to use enough olive oil to fuel an orgy just to get three fingers inside. Vince was literally begging for it, using dirty words and sounding as fake as a porn star.

When he tried to enter Vince, it was like hitting a brick wall. No amount of stretching seemed to get him loose enough for Howard. He was about halfway in when Vince's eyes started welling with tears, but being the eternal optimist, Vince assured Howard it was all right.

When he was completely buried inside, Howard kissed Vince until the smaller man started to relax. It was a much tighter fit than with a woman, and it was nearly impossible to last. Only pride kept Howard from coming within the first two minutes. He was determined to get Vince off. He ended up coming well before Vince, but stayed hard and pulsating inside of his partner while Vince jerked off. Vince was amazing in that moment. He ground himself on Howard's sensitive dick and stroked himself with abandon. When he finally came on Howard's belly, he was a sweaty, red-faced mess. It wasn't a full twenty minutes before Howard was back on top of him.

xxx

Howard stripped off his gear and laid down on the bed. He looked stiff and uncomfortable, but not like a flight risk.

"There's lots of things we can do," Vince offered, "Whatever you like."

Howard stared at the ceiling, "I trust you. I'd like to try."

It was the best possible thing Howard could have said. He trusted Vince.

Vince was fastidious. He rolled Howard onto his stomach and gave him a full backrub, kneading the tense muscles until Howard was putty in Vince's hands. When he moved below the waist, Vince massaged Howard's healthy bottom and thighs until his friend was nearly relaxed. 

Howard was never comfortable letting Vince touch him. Even in bed, Howard liked to do the touching and got awkward when he received return petting and loving. Even with Gideon, Howard seemed to struggle with control issues. Vince knew the effort it was taking Howard to just be passive.

When Vince dipped his fingers between Howard's cheeks, his partner tensed up and apologized. Vince dismissed the apologies and set his sites on fitting his fingers (which suddenly looked awfully stubby and fat) into Howard's tightly puckered rear. He was so focused on getting Howard good and slippery without hurting him, he had no idea how long his partner had been staring at the photo on the ground beside their bed. Vince was ready to throw something on top of it, not wanting Howard to be looking at Gideon with three fingers of Vince in his arse, but then he realized it was the other photo. Howard was examining the picture of himself, looking dashing and handsome.

"I took that," Vince explained, "for your mum. She wanted a 'nice' photo for the wall, and you were too cheap to have one done, so I took it. I done your hair and the lighting and everything. Then I gave you a framed copy for Christmas!"

Howard chuckled, but the laugh was strangled as Vince was seeking out his prostate.

"I wondered why I... oh..." Vince had found his prostate, "That's... well, sir..."

"I didn't think you kept it," Vince continued, "Figured you just chucked it, but then you gave it to me when we thought the zoo was closing."

Howard looked thoughtful, "I wondered why I had a framed photo of myself... I don't think I meant..."

Howard closed his eyes and shuddered as Vince stroked with his fingers, finding every sensitive spot.

"It's all right, Howard," Vince promised.

"I'm pretty sure I hid that picture there to remind me that you were the one," Howard explained.

"Which one?"

"The one. The one I should be pursuing," Howard explained, "It was always you, but I was so hung up and confused. I'm sorry."

Howard stopped talking (and breathing) as Vince moved his fingers faster. He'd been so angry that Howard kept a picture of himself kissing Gideon, the meaning of the photo was just starting to hit Vince.

Howard had written a note to himself that he had been with Gideon and it would never work. 

And he had written, "Don't forget that Vince is precious." 

"What does it mean?" Vince asked as Howard squirmed beneath him, making guttural noises as Vince worked his prostate, "Why did you write that I was precious?"

"I think I'm... Oh, Christy, I'm nearly there. Now, Vince."

Vince slicked himself up quickly, sinking into Howard with surprising ease. He felt like he was being swallowed whole by the velvety heat and pressure. Howard was like an ermine covered vice.

Vince was awkwardly straddling Howard as he fucked him. He was using the pain in his leg to keep himself from coming too quickly. Howard wasn't just tight, he was also throwing himself into the action, thrusting back and trying to draw Vince in even deeper. Howard was almostflat on his belly, not giving Vince a chance to stroke his cock, but it didn't seem to be a problem. Howard was humping the sheets and moaning. Vince was happy enough to see the back of Howard's curly haired head, but when he turned his head... Vince had never seen anything as beautiful as Howard's red face, grimacing as he tried to find just the right rhythm. When Howard fucked Vince, he always looked calm, lost in whatever thoughts that helped him be so goddamn good at screwing Vince's brains out. He probably thought about jazz charts and Tommy's big cheese head when he was trying to last, but now, he was totally giving in to the moment. Vince wanted to know what Howard was thinking, but he was pretty sure that if he asked, he would come before Howard was done answering.

"Beautiful," Vince muttered as he tried to focus on the cramp forming in his thigh and NOT on Howard's arching back.

Howard made a noise of agreement before whispering, "Harder."

Vince gripped Howard's waist and tried to be a stud, he tried to give him the kind of bumming that would turn his legs to jelly and make him forget how to speak. Vince wanted to roger him senseless. He hoped it wouldn't take long, because he was dying to get off.

Howard grabbed a pillow and used it to cover his face as he cried out. His muscles suddenly tightened around Vince's cock, making him come immediately. When Vince was done panting (and drooling a bit) as he sprawled across Howard's back, he reflected on their timing. Impeccable as always.

"That was some double act magic, there," Vince weakly joked. Howard laughed. He was looking a bit shy, ducking his head and avoiding Vince's eyes, but he looked happy and well-spent. It would probably take Howard a while to get used to losing control. It really wasn't his forte. Vince arranged them until he was wrapped in Howard's long arms, feeling safe and warm.

"Down the road, when all your memories are back and you're pissed at me for being such a little shit..."

Howard laughed but didn't interrupt.

"Remember how much I need you. I'm sorry."

Howard shushed him, "What matters is we're together now, and I will never take you for granted again."

Vince breathed in Howard's tweedy smell and sighed. Then he fell asleep.

xxx

 

Howard sat in his flat and wondered if Naboo's magic would really work. It had worked for Vanessa, but she was already a bit flighty. As much as Howard longed to be special, he noticed that truly brilliant people tended to be a bit... off. 

There was a photo of him kissing Vanessa on his bureau. Joey Moose had taken it the week after Vanessa left her husband. Howard knew he should burn it. That part of his life was well and truly over. Vanessa looked through him like a ghost while flirting with Vince, and Vince spitefully encouraged her attentions at every turn. 

He'd destroyed Vanessa's marriage with a false promise. He'd never been able to keep his hands off of Vince for long. As much as he respected her intellect and was charmed by her eccentricities, Vanessa had a fatal flaw: She was not Vince Noir. Howard knew he deserved everything she'd ever yelled at him, and he deserved to be scorned by both her and Vince. He ruined his friendship with Vince, though he could occasionally still get him naked, and he'd driven Gideon to clear her memory of Howard Moon. He deserved to be alone.

Howard turned the photo over and wrote himself a brief message, just in case the spell worked. Just in case he tried to make the same mistake twice. He hid the photo behind the framed photo of himself he'd been given by Vince. Like everything that reminded him of Vince, the photo made him smile. Vince always made Howard smile and Howard always made Vince cry. Maybe the new Howard would be an improvement. Even at his angriest, Vince could never resist Howard. He was inexplicably drawn to Howard, despite his many flaws. Now, he'd have a new Howard to mould into a proper boyfriend.

Howard laid down on his bed, staring at the picture of himself and thinking about Vince and their "photo shoot". Vince had fussed over him, playing with his hair and posing him in different, pretentious poses.

They would never understand how much he loved them both. If he'd never known Vince, maybe Howard could have made Vanessa happy.

If he were a different person entirely, maybe he could have made his Little Man happy.

It took several hours and bottle of Scotch for Howard to fall asleep.

xxx

Howard remembered hating himself when he went to Naboo for a reboot. He hadn't expected to end up wearing Hawaiian shirts or going into 'jazz trances', but Naboo's spell worked. Howard became a different person, a better person. Someone who defined being a man by his character and not by his sexual partners. 

Lying in Vince's arms, feeling equal parts safe and vulnerable, Howard couldn't regret any of his decisions. He'd done everything wrong, but now he was with Vince, giving himself to his partner in a way he could never have done before the spell.

Howard stroked Vince's black hair and smiled at the way Vince instinctively moved in to the touch, even as he slept. The occasional sensation of his brain bursting into flames was a small price to pay to have Vince back in his arms.

Howard had almost dosed off when he heard a knock at the door. He quickly pulled up the duvet to cover himself and his sleeping partner, but Naboo simply yelled through the door.

"So, you ballbags actually planning to open the shop at some point? I'm trying to run a business, ya know."

xxx

Vanessa Gideon could never properly explain why her marriage fell apart. She'd been too young, he'd been too old, but she couldn't point to any real reason for their demise. Her only clue was a photo she kept in her bedside drawer. She didn't know where it came from, but it was her handwriting on the back that said, "He's a lying, cheating bastard." The mystery rather revolved around the identity of the lying, cheating bastard. She didn't think it was her ex-husband, Gerald. She had no memory of him being unfaithful. 

For possibly the millionth time, Vanessa looked at the grainy Polaroid. The charming Vince Noir was on his knees, naked, his face the very image of ecstasy as he was taken from behind by a broad shouldered man. The face of the second man was obscured by angry slashes of black marker and the photo had clearly been stabbed (more than once) with a pair of scissors. She often thought that if she knew the identity of Vince's lover, the rest of the story would fall into place. She remembered the handsome young mod had often been in the company of another zoo keeper. She couldn't remember the other man's face or name, just a vague image of a bit of pink ephemera above a zoo uniform. She'd heard Vince and his friend were living together in Dalston, so maybe the faceless man in the photo was his companion from the zoo. If that were true, it was of no use to Vanessa, as he was clearly not the type of man to make a woman stab his face out of a picture with a pair of scissors. It took a special kind of man to inspire that level of hatred.

Vanessa would surely remember a guy like that.


End file.
